


Sins of the Fathers

by Genie60



Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Poldark - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Children, F/M, Illegitimacy, Marriage, Parenthood, Poldark AU, Post-Book 7: The Angry Tide, fathers and sons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 02:03:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14415273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genie60/pseuds/Genie60
Summary: What if Valentine was sent to live with the Poldarks at Nampara?  Could Demelza look past the circumstances of his birth to give this boy the love that has been missing from his life as she prepares for the birth of her own child?  And how will Ross handle coming face to face with the result of his one night if idiocy?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing but the idea. Thanks to WG and DH for their vivid characterizations that have inspired so many works of fiction.
> 
> Totally edited or unedited by myself.

_“The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children.”_ _  
―_ [ **_William Shakespeare_ ** ](https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/947.William_Shakespeare) _,_ [ **_The Merchant of Venice_ ** ](https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/2682703)

Cornwall 1802-

It had been three years since the death of Elizabeth Chynoweth Poldark Warleggan.  In that time things had changed and yet stayed the same.  For the inhabitants of Trenwith, life without their mistress seemed hollow and staid.  Elizabeth was the epitome of what the wife of a Member of Parliament should be: poised, educated, charming.  Still, there was always an aloofness to her that seemed to set the tone for the household.  Now, with her gone, that had turned from propriety to emptiness.  There was no warmth or familial connection among those left behind. 

George Warleggan was focused on his career and had little time for his children.  Lucky for him his stepson, Geoffrey Charles was off on his own finishing his education at boarding school. What the boy did after that was not really his concern.  His youngest child, Ursula, was tended to by a governess who seemed to be raising her in a manner worthy of their status.  There was always a bittersweet attachment to his daughter as she was the reminder of why his wife died.  The girl’s birth resulted in some unknown disease to overtake his wife and to this day, George had no firm answer as to what that was.  Part of him believed that the Dwight Enys knew the truth but held it back for reasons he could not understand except perhaps that it had something to do with him; that some action or word had led Elizabeth to do something rash.  Another part of him didn’t care what caused her death; he was just forlorn that she was gone. The fact that his daughter was the exact image of her mother didn’t help in his coming to terms with her death.  It was on those days he was grateful that she was most often in the company of her governess which limited his sightings of her.

Then there was Elizabeth’s second child.  Eight years after his birth and George could not call him “my son”.  Nor could he state out loud why that barrier was there although he and the occupants of Nampara had a fairly clear idea.  It was the thought that would never die yet could not be spoken of either.  Valentine.  A child born under a black moon, cursed on the day of his birth by the oldest Poldark, and who, for all the advantages given him as a Warleggan heir, showed no signs of being that at all. He was headstrong and will full and bore the countenance of another man.  He had been plagued with rickets as an infant which, when coupled with the words of a bitter old woman, seemed to bring the curse to fruition. Even the assurances of his wife, that she had not given herself to any other man but those she was married do, did nothing to ease his mind. For all the years of their marriage, this one thought, that Valentine was not his child, would not leave him.

So today, George came to a decision to end his misery and perhaps even that of the boy.  He had the child’s belongings packed in a trunk and put on the family carriage.  It was at the breakfast table that he broke the news.

“I believe it’s time you got to know your other family,” George said.

His tone was calm and firm. There was no opportunity to question the statement so Valentine just stared at the man he called ‘father’.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“It means I’m sending you to go live with the Poldarks of Nampara.  They are your mother’s cousins and as such, should now bear some of the responsibility for your upbringing. Especially since…”

George did not complete the sentence but returned to looking at the paper.  Valentine waited for some explanation but his father offered nothing.  

“I’ve never met them.  What are they like?” the boy asked.

“You’ll find out soon enough.  I’m sure you’ll fit in quite well.  I believe they have children closer to your age to engage with.  Here, hurry up and finish your breakfast as I want to take you there on my way back to London.”

Rising from the table, George gave Valentine one more look, solidifying the idea that what he was about to do was the best for all.  Well, perhaps not the Poldarks, but certainly for him and his daughter.  Once Valentine was set at Nampara, he could go about closing up this house until a decision could be made about its fate.  By right the estate was Geoffrey Charles but considering all the money he had put out for the boy’s education and to upkeep the property, George could take it as payment for a debt owed.  That is something his Uncle Cary would have suggested, however, George’s love for Elizabeth, even now, prevented him from being that vindictive. For now.   He left the room to gather his coat and hat and summoned for the carriage.  Standing in the great hall, George thought of all that had happened in this house; some good, such as Elizabeth agreeing to marry him.  Some not, like having to put up longer than he should have with Agatha Poldark.  If anyone was to blame for this next step in his and Valentine’s life, it was the tarot card reading shrew.  George looked up at the portrait of Elizabeth and felt a pang of sadness.  He did love her.  Idolized her. She was a porcelain statue that he had coveted, won and prized.  Even in death, she was still on a pedestal that he couldn’t see lowering in the foreseeable future.

“I’m ready, Papa,” Valentine said approaching his father.

George bristled at the moniker but fought showing his displeasure to the boy. 

“Good,” he said brusquely.

Purposely walking to the front door, George didn’t look back as the boy trotted to keep up.  With a small stuffed bear in tow, Valentine Warleggan followed his father. With a hoist up a footman, he joined his father on the opposite bench.  As the carriage pulled away, he rose to his knees to look at the house that had been his home and wondered what would greet him down the road.

*~~~~~~~*

“Clowance Poldark, please come out here and help me with this wash!”

Demelza Poldark called to her daughter from the yard as she reached up to pin another shirt to the line.  Now close to delivering her fourth child, the daily chores were becoming harder as her body became more cumbersome.  Shaking out the linen, she felt a twinge in her back and paused as she pushed her hand against it to ease the ache.

“You are active, little one, aren’t you?” she said to her unborn child.  “Seems you’ve inherited your father’s restlessness.” 

She smiled thinking about this surprise addition to their family.  After Clowance, time and circumstance seemed to seal the Poldark’s fate that their strawberry blonde daughter would be the last of their offspring.  So months ago when Demelza found herself faced with the familiar symptoms of pregnancy, she couldn’t quite believe it to be true and waited until she saw her body change before telling Ross.  His reaction was not only one of shock but joy.  The past ten years had been one of maturity and growth in the marriage of Ross and Demelza Poldark and, as he related to his wife, Ross thought that another child was just one more example of the solidity of their love. 

Her body relaxed as Clowance came running out of the house, her face covered in jam from the scone she was eating.

“I’m here, Mama,” she said, crumbs sputtering out as she spoke.

“Clowance, you know better than to speak with food in your mouth. Now swallow and then help me hang the wash.  Where is your brother?”

Demelza bent over to pick up another piece of clothing then held her hand out for a wooden pin to hang it.  Clowance wiped her mouth with her hand before grabbing a pin and holding it up for her mother. 

“I think he is with Papa.  They are going over maps.  Papa is trying to teach Jeremy about geo..geo…” Clowance stumbled over the word, amusing Demelza.  Her inability to formulate the word reminded Demelza of her early days at Nampara as she taught herself how to read.

“Geography?”

Clowance’s eyes brightened as she recognized the word.

“Yes!”

“Well, your Papa is a good one to teach that since he’s been to so many places,” Demelza said.

She and her daughter continued the rhythm of handing and hanging the wash as the young girl became curious about what her mother said.

“Where has Papa been?  You mean he’s seen places that are on that map?”

The girl was paying full attention to her mother now almost forgetting why she was there.

“Yes, my love.  Papa has been to France and many places in England.  Even America,” Demelza explained. “But he always comes back home.”

“I’m glad Mama.  I would be sad if Papa didn’t come home to us,” Clowance said thoughtfully.

“Me too, my love.  Me too,” Demelza said.

She touched her daughter’s cheek with her hand and felt the remnants of the sticky jam.

“I think you need to scrub that face of yours Clowance,” she said.

“Now?”

“Yes now.  Why are you questioning me?”

“Because I want to see who the visitors are,” the little girl said pointing past her mother to the path leading to Nampara.

Demelza turned to follow her line of vision and saw the carriage with the gold-crusted ‘W’ approach.  A knot formed in her stomach that hadn’t been felt in many years.  Since Elizabeth’s death, the Nampara Poldarks had little, if anything to do with the Trenwith household. A casual meeting at some soiree held by a mutual acquaintance or a passing visit by Geoffrey Charles had been the extent of their interactions.   Other than that, they had made a concerted effort to avoid anything more. So why was George Warleggan coming to Nampara now?  Demelza was sure this could not bode well.

Wiping her hands on her apron and smoothing her skirt, Demelza walked to the path to meet the carriage.  As she neared she saw that George was not alone.  She stopped for a moment to gain her composure when she saw the dark curls of the young boy who was just slightly older than Clowance.  The memory of a night nine years prior came to mind when she paced the floor of her bedroom waiting for Ross to return in vain.  Straightening her back with her head held high, Demelza waited for the carriage to stop and as it did, she put a smile on her face, waiting to find out why George and the boy were here.  Clowance snuck up next to her, grabbing a hold of Demelza’s skirt, partially hiding behind it so that the strange man wouldn’t see her.

“Mistress Poldark,” George said.

“George.  What brings you to Nampara?”

Her voice was steady which hid the nerves coursing through her.

“Is Ross here?” he asked.

“Why? What business do you have with him?” 

As she spoke, her eyes drifted to the boy, now close enough for Demelza to see clearly for the first time.  It was then she found herself gazing into the face of a younger version of her husband.  There was no denying the resemblance.  Of course, that proved nothing despite the female intuition that took over. 

“I think you know Demelza,” George said as he rose to exit the carriage, the footman opening the door for him.

Demelza’s eyes traveled from the boy to George, suddenly understanding what this was about.  Not wanting Clowance to hear any kind of disagreeable exchange she sent her inside.

“Clowance, go into Jane and have her give you another scone,” Demelza said.

“But Mama, you said only one before dinner,” Clowance stated while trying to take furtive looks at their visitors. She was an intuitive child and knew that they had upset her mother which in turn, was upsetting her.

“Tell Jane I said it was alright,” she insisted. 

The girl started to skip away before Demelza called after her.

“Oh and don’t tell your Papa we have company, understood?”

Clowance nodded without question, her mind focused on the scone that was waiting for her.

Once her daughter was out of earshot, Demelza turned her attention back to George.

“Why don’t you tell me what this is really about George?”

Seeing her condition, George smirked and moved closer to Demelza.

“I see you’re expecting.  Clearly whatever Ross has done has been forgotten.  I have to ask you Demelza.  How did you cope with Ross’s betrayal?”

She panicked, now wondering what and how much George knew about Ross and Elizabeth.

“I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at George,” she said as calmly as she could.

“Come now, Demelza. We both know that something transpired between our respective spouses at some point in the past.  And that quite possibly, something more concrete resulted in that encounter,” he said.

He gave a sideways glance to the carriage but kept his body turned towards Demelza.

“So I have to ask, how did you get past whatever happened?  Knowing that you’d been betrayed in some way by the ever noble Ross Poldark?”

Her loyalty towards her husband and their marriage took over giving her the power to stand up to this man.

“I got past it as you say because I had to George. Because I have a family that is the most important thing to me. And because I wanted to,” she said.

The smirk faded as he realized that Ross had something with this scullery maid that he didn’t have with Elizabeth. Despite all he could give her and all they had created together, the one thing that was missing was the fundamental basis for a marriage: real love.  He had loved Elizabeth but it seemed now it wasn’t the kind of love that sustained a marriage.  If Elizabeth had lived, what would their lives have been like?

“I see.  Well, that’s good to know Demelza because I find it’s now time for Ross to take on the responsibility of this child.  I’ve done as much as I can and I believe he would be better off and better suited to the life here at Nampara.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” 

George came face to face with her and whispered, “It’s time for Ross to take care of his bastard son.”

He stepped back and motioned for the boy to join them.  Demelza watched as the youngster hopped out of the carriage clutching his toy, a look a fear on his face and suddenly she felt sympathy for him.  This child was in many ways reminded Demelza of herself: motherless, unwanted by his father, lost.  As he came to stand next to George, she saw that the boy’s features resembled her other children. The only difference was that she was not his mother.

The footman brought the case and placed it between the boy and Demelza.

“I think you’ll find all his belongings in here and if something else is needed, well I’m sure Ross can provide them. I’m off to London.  I’ve closed up Trenwith for the time being so there should be no reason for any communication between us,” George said.

He returned to the carriage, tipped his hat and gave orders for the carriage to move.  Demelza stood watching the carriage retreat when she felt a small hand slip into hers.  She looked down at the boy and her heart, despite her head, opened up to him.  In this whole mess that the adults in his world created, he was a victim.  How could she do anything but care?  She squeezed his hand and smiled down at him.

“Are you hungry?” she asked softly.

The boy nodded.

“Well then, let’s see if Clowance has saved any scones for the rest of us.  Come along, Valentine,” she said.

The boy tugged at her hand and made her stop.

“How did you know my name?” he asked.

She took it for granted that he knew a bit of the connection between his mother and her family but apparently not. 

“I knew your mother,” she explained.

“Oh,” he replied then continued to walk with her.

“My things,” he remembered.

“I’ll have someone get them,” she said and continued towards the house.

Demelza held his hand as they walked into the entry where Ross emerged from his library, still looking at a map, not seeing his wife or her companion.  Jeremy was on his heels, currently acting as Ross’s shadow.

“Clowance said we had visitors.”

He looked up as he got the last word out when he saw the boy hanging on to his wife’s hand. He recognized him immediately.

“Demelza? What’s going on?” he asked.

“I’ll explain in a moment.  Jeremy, can you take Master Valentine into the kitchen and see if Jane has any scones left to share?”

Demelza leaned down towards Valentine to speak to him.

“Valentine, go with Jeremy and I’ll be along shortly,” she said.

The little boy looked at Jeremy, who now approached with trepidation but was ready to obey his mother. Valentine then tilted his head up to look at Ross but there was no trace of recognition.

“Mama?” Jeremy started to ask.

“This is Valentine. Your cousin Geoffrey Charles’ younger brother.  He’s come for a visit,” she said.

She disengaged Valentine’s hand from hers and passed him to Jeremy.  Without needing to look at him, Demelza knew Ross was full of questions.  She watched the boys leave then went into the parlor and proceeded to pour herself a port.  Again another night came to mind: the night Valentine was born.  Ross spent most of the evening drinking and hiding in his library, unable to look at her.  While she was not quite ready to discuss what was happening at Trenwith that night, Demelza was still prepared to finally hear the words from Ross’s mouth that, to this day, he hadn’t said.  Now, face to face with the issue that was the one black cloud hovering over their lives, she wondered what he’d say.  Would they finally have that discussion that should have occurred eight years ago?

Demelza was still by the cupboard with her back turned to the door so that she didn’t see Ross enter but rather heard him.  She turned slowly, facing him with clear, unemotional eyes.  Walking to the settle she sat down and sipped her port.

“Demelza, what is he doing here?” Ross asked as he joined her.

“Just as I said, Ross.  He’s visiting,” she explained.

“For how long?”

Ross was agitated.  He was not prepared for this and didn’t like surprises. 

“Some time I believe.  George didn’t say exactly.”

Her voice was calm and steady.

“George?! What in God’s name was he doing here?”

Ross stood now and paced the room going to pour a drink for himself, gulping it down in one swallow.

“I told you, Ross. He came to bring Valentine to live with his…cousins,” she said. 

Part of her wanted to say the word that they’ve avoided for so long and yet she didn’t think now was the time.  Not while their children and Valentine was nearby.  But they both knew that they needed to discuss this once and for all. She stood and put her glass down on the table, then walked to Ross.  Putting her hands on his, she leaned up and kissed him gently.

“Let’s go for a walk. We need to talk,” she said.

Demelza let go of his hand and reached for a shawl that was draped on the chair of the pianoforte.  She wrapped it around her shoulders then went to the kitchen to inform Jane that she and Ross were going for a walk.  Jeremy and Clowance were so focused on each other and getting to know their visitor they didn’t notice their mother.  Demelza looked at the three children sitting around the table, sharing scones and milk and wondered if this was normal.  Or were she and Ross just lucky to have children who were aware and open to others?  Closing the door behind her she peered into the parlor but didn’t see Ross.  Worried that he was going to find some excuse to avoid this conversation she walked quickly to the front door, prepared to head to the mine when she saw him leaning against the far wall, staring out at the sea.

She slid her arm up his back and he jumped as if touched by a ghost.  He kept his gaze towards the horizon, speaking out into the air.

“Demelza, I don’t know if I can…”

“Yes Ross, _we_ can,” she corrected him.

He turned then to see the beautiful face of his wife.  This woman was everything to him and more.  Despite all that she had been through with him, she smiled.  All the trials and tribulations, most caused by his reckless behavior didn’t deter her from once again being ready to take on whatever life sent them.  They walked away from the house before either of them spoke.  Ross loosely held Demelza’s hand, reminiscent of their early days when every event or issue was discussed during a walk. 

“I admire you, my love.  How can you be so accepting of a child you don’t know?”

“Why are you so surprised Ross? He is still just a child.  And a motherless one at that who needs nurturing since his father has been unable to provide that.  Or mayhap, chose not to.”

They had reached the end of their property which abutted the shoreline.  Ross looked at Demelza and wordlessly led her down the path to the beach.  Mindful of her condition, he went slower than usual so that she didn’t lose her footing.  They were walking towards the shore when he finally said what had been communicated silently for the past months, even years.

“Demelza there was never any proof of the child’s parentage.  Even Elizabeth refused to acknowledge the possibility that I…”

She stopped walking and turned him to face her.

“Say it, Ross. That more likely than not, you fathered her son.”

Finally, the words were out and could not be taken back.  He stared at his wife, not quite believing her strength and love despite the hurt he brought upon her with his actions.

“Demelza I’m sorry. If I had known what that night would have brought to all of us…”

“You’d still go, Ross. Because at that point nothing was going to stop you from trying to change Elizabeth’s mind.  I knew that then,” she said.

“You were always the wiser of the two of us my love,” he said.

She touched his cheek as he leaned down to kiss her, drawing him flush against his body. As he did so, their unborn child decided to make their presence known with a well-felt kick. Giggling, Demelza pulled away and looked down at her expansive belly.

“I swear Ross, your children are nothing short of attention seekers. This one must sense that there is something different in our household as she has been moving non-stop since this morning.”

He moved his hand to join her on the swell of her abdomen, feeling this child actively making her presence know.

“’She’ Demelza?”

“Just a feeling I have. Besides, now we do have an extra boy in the mix,” she said, bringing them back to the issue at hand.

His grin faded to one of a thoughtful smile.

“Yes, I suppose you are right.  Demelza, as much as we assume Valentine is mine, we cannot let it impede our current lives or those of our children.  I know you feel some kind of sympathy for the boy but we don’t have to take this on.”

“Yes, Ross we do.  No matter what the circumstances were surrounding his birth or parentage, as I said once before, if he is a part of you then he will be a part of me.  Even though I am not his true mother,” she said, now letting her emotions get the better of her. 

Ross enveloped her in his arms and let her weep, knowing the tears were for all of them.

“Then we should get back to the house and see what mischief those children are getting into.  I am still not comfortable with this Demelza but will trust your instincts.  Although we can’t tell Jeremy or Clowance the truth.”

“I know Ross so, for now, we will treat Valentine as their cousin. There is no need for them to know anything else.”

Ross took her hand again as they started back up the path to the house.  There returned a comfortable silence between them with Ross lifting her hand to his lips to place a loving kiss there.  As they passed a  fresh strawberry patch, Demelza’s nose wrinkled at the scent.  Ross caught her reaction and wondered what bothered her as the fruit was one of her favorites.

“Demelza is something amiss?”

“Nothing except that lately the smell of berries doesn’t agree with me,” she said, scurrying past the bushes.

“But they’ve always been your favorite, “he said with a grin.

“Yes and I’m hoping they are again once Miss Poldark arrives. But for now, can we just keep walking?”

He laughed at her as she let go of his hand and made a brisk line for the house.  Reaching the gate she stopped and waited for him.  There, they wrapped their arms around each other and breathed deeply as if taking combining their strength.

“Are you sure about this Demelza?  I would never want you to take on something that could be a reminder of my idiocy.”

“A child is not idiocy Ross. Besides, why should he suffer because of the sins of his fathers,” she said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Poldarks begin acclimating to their new arrival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I own nothing or no one except the idea. Any errors or glitches are of my own doing. Thanks to WG and DH for the characters to play with.

 Over dinner, the elder Poldarks tried to engage Valentine in the chatter provided by their offspring or rather more to the point, Clowance who was a fountain of questions and found their visitor fascinating. Jeremy said little but eyed the newcomer warily while pretending to eat.  Demelza, who sat opposite Ross, knew what her son was doing; he was pouting, something she’d seen often enough in his father. It amused her to see so much of Ross in Jeremy but then again was frustrated at having to contend with another male whose moods could be unpredictable. For the most part, Jeremy was a pleasant, good-natured boy.  On the rare occasions when he got sour it was usually after some skirmish with his sister or his frustration at himself when he couldn’t accomplish a task.

Tonight it was neither reason, which left the arrival Valentine as the likely cause.  Demelza turned to the dark haired boy as a thought came to her mind.  What about this child? What traits did he inherit from his parents? From his quiet demeanor, Demelza found it hard to imagine him having a reckless streak like the man at the other end of the table. The idea of this boy and her husband sharing blood due to an impulsive act brought home the fact that she was not this child’s mother.  A dull ache washed through her heart for a moment as she recalled the events of that night, the memory of which had not been present for years.  While she and Ross had come so far, getting past questioning the love they had for each other or the importance of their marriage, they had never really discussed the outcome of that incident. As Demelza realized that it could not be avoided any longer, she became aware of four pairs of eyes staring at her and she blushed.  Knowing the needed the discussion would have to be done in private, she attempted to lighten the mood.

“Have I got something on my face?”

She brushed at her nose and the children giggled. Ross didn’t because he knew the shades of his wife and if he was right, she was thinking of the child in their midst which made him turn and look at the boy himself.  Demelza went about putting food on Jeremy and Clowance’s plates but still caught Ross staring at Valentine while trying not to look like he was.  Just as Ross knew Demelza, she knew him as well. She knew that Ross saw what she did in the boy: the dark, brooding look of himself as well as the bright eyes of his mother. Any other woman would be jealous or angry at her husband’s connections to the son he had with his first love.  Logically she should feel that way as well except that Demelza was not that type of person and much of the hurt she felt had died with Elizabeth.  Even before that, after her indiscretion, she and Ross had re-committed to each other, acknowledging that they were each other’s soul mate and that whoever or whatever had come between them, was not strong enough to break them.  The moments of self-reflection were broken by the sound of something crashing.

“Mama!  Jeremy dropped his plate,” Clowance cried.

Demelza leaned over to see the dish and the stew she made scattered on the floor.  Jeremy sat defiantly waiting for one of his parents to say something.  Looking around the table Demelza saw that Clowance’s interest was once again in her food and Valentine kept his head down, seemingly fearful of the happenings surrounding him.  Ross gazed across at his wife and gave her a sad smile.  After so many years of marriage and knowing their children so well, they both could surmise what was troubling Jeremy.  However, this time it was not Demelza’s place to comfort him; Ross would have to do it.  With an imperceptible nod, Ross wiped his mouth, threw his napkin down and directed his next statement to his son.

“Jeremy, come with me,” he said firmly.

Ross’s tone was harsher than he intended, so he expected his sensitive son to burst into tears. Instead, Jeremy cautiously looked to his mother. Demelza said nothing except a nod indicating he should do as he was told.  Without a word, the child leaped up and walked past his father and out of the room. Ross exchanged another glance with his wife, smiling in common understanding.  Demelza watched them leave, then let out a sigh as she stood to begin the clean-up of the mess Jeremy made.  When she looked down at the floor she realized she wouldn’t be able to manage much in her condition. 

“Clowance, go fetch a bin from the kitchen then help me clear this away,” she said.

The fair-haired little girl put down her spoon, wiped her mouth with the back of her arm, and then ran to do as she was told.

“Yes, Mama,” she called as she scampered out of the room, her voice performing some nonsensical, sing-song tune.

Demelza watched her leave and so didn’t see that the third child in the room had begun the task she was unable to do. Turning around she saw him quietly picking up the shards and placing them in a neat pile on the floor.  She walked to where the boy was and took a seat in the chair next to him.  She said nothing but watched as he slowly and methodically went about doing this chore. He seemed so serious for a boy of eight. A pang of sadness hit Demelza along with motherly instincts.  She stared at the dark head, so familiar in so many ways and spoke.

“Valentine? What are you doing?”

“Cleaning up ma’am.  You shouldn’t leave a mess. That’s what Papa always said.”

He never lifted his head even at the vague mention of George, a reminder of why Valentine was here in the first place.  But it was the use of the term “Papa” in relation to that man that seemed out of context.  She hadn’t intended on broaching the subject of Valentine’s parents but the door was now open and Demelza passed through.   A nervous energy found her so she began to straighten the table as it gave her something to do with her hands.

“Do you miss your…papa?” she asked.

“No ma’am.   I miss my mama,” Valentine answered.

It was then that he looked up and Demelza saw tears in the boy’s eyes. Her heart went out to this child; her husband’s child. And as he was Ross’ son, she knew that there was no way she could let him continue to be motherless.

“Valentine,” she said her voice barely above a whisper as she went to the boy.  Reaching out, she pulled him into her embrace. Suddenly he let his tears flow. It was this scene that Clowance walked in on. She said nothing but rather turned to go find her father.

*~~~~~~~*

In the library, Ross sat talking with Jeremy.  The older Poldark was leaning against the front of the antique desk where many a time his father did the same thing. Now being on the reverse end of the scolding was not something Ross enjoyed but he knew it was necessary.  His son’s behavior was out of character all evening. Now as the younger Poldark sat in the chair opposite him, Ross expected Jeremy to show some sign of remorse or regret but there was none. The boy’s face remained neutral, stoic even framed by the same wayward curls he’d inherited from his mother but in the color of the Poldark men. A fleeting thought of the other male in the house came to Ross: that of another child who also bore a resemblance to the Poldark line. Ross knew that a long conversation with Demelza and eventually the boy would need to happen but now he was focused on his first born son and the heir to the family legacy.

“Jeremy, what made you behave like that? You’re a good boy. Why would you break a dish?”

The child said nothing but Ross could see his bravado was slipping away and the repercussions of his behavior were starting to sink in.  He bowed his head and looked at the floor.  The silence that permeated the room was broken with the onset of soft sobs. Ross saw his son breakdown and immediately the instinct to protect overcame the need to scold.  He moved off the desk and bent down to gather Jeremy into his arms.  While he was not raised to show physical demonstrations of caring, since his marriage to Demelza and becoming a father, Ross had learned how important it was to show the people you love what you feel for them.  He learned that the hard way when he almost lost Demelza not once, but twice. Since then, Ross made sure to show her and his children just what they meant to him. And Jeremy being his mother’s son was inherently like that.

 In his early days as a Member of Parliament, his son would run into his arms upon his arrival home. Ross welcomed those small gestures because they brought him back to whom he was and what he cared most about. As Jeremy got older, Ross could see that change as his son came to believe that a young man had to behave a certain way. Ross made a point of showing Jeremy that being a man didn’t mean you needed to be cold or distant. He demonstrated his love for Demelza in front of the children which always caused Clowance to giggle and Jeremy to avert his eyes.  To see his son let go and allow his frustration out in this way proved to Ross that his parenting skills seemed to be working. He let his son cry into his chest, soothing him with a gentle hand to his back.

“I’m sorry Papa,” he said.

Ross truly felt his son’s regret.

“I know my boy. Tell me why you did it. Was it something your sister did that upset you?”

He could guess what the answer would be but needed Jeremy to tell him in his own words.

“No,” said the small voice.

“Did Mama or I upset you?” Ross asked.

Jeremy shook his head. There was no avoiding the inevitable.

“Was it our guest?  Your cousin Geoffrey Charles’s brother, Valentine?”

Saying the boy’s name made him real to Ross. Up until then, he was still George and Elizabeth’s child, in thought at least. But saying it out loud, with the echo of Elizabeth in his ear, forced Ross to begin the journey to acceptance.  Jeremy nodded into Ross’s chest then pulled away to look at his father.

“Why did he come here?”

“You know why. He has no mother and his…father thought it best that he come to a family who could care for him. One that has other children. Besides you are like cousins,” Ross explained.  The last comment a thought that he hoped would end his son’s questions.

“So he’s going to stay?” Jeremy said.

“For the time being, yes,” Ross said.

Jeremy paused, letting his father’s answer settle. 

He wiped his nose then asked, “And will you love him more than me?”

Ross was not expecting that question.

“No Jeremy. You are my first born son. You came to your mother and me at a time when we needed you most. You were a gift we didn’t know we wanted and I will never love anyone as I do you.”

He smiled at his son and brushed the hair out of his eyes so he could dry his tears.  The two Poldarks stayed like that for a few moments when Clowance came bursting into the room.

“Papa!” she cried.  “Mama needs you. Hurry!”

Without waiting for an answer or explaining her panic, the girl ran out of the room as quickly as she had appeared, leaving Ross to wonder what exactly was happening in the other room.  He didn’t think much of Clowance’s declaration until he remembered Demelza’s condition.  Taking hold of Jeremy’s hand, he followed his daughter into the parlor and stopped short just inside the room.  There he saw Demelza, heavy with their fourth child, comforting Valentine.  It was a scene he’d witnessed many times with Julia, Jeremy, and Clowance so he shouldn’t have been surprised by this repeated action. Yet the sight of his wife, the woman who changed his life for the better, being a mother to the child of his first love made him love her more. 

“Demelza?  Is something the matter?”

Ross spoke softly as he neared the pair, motioning that Jeremy and Clowance stay put.  He came up behind his wife and put his hands on her shoulders. Feeling his touch, Demelza tilted her head so that her cheek brushed his hand and he rubbed her skin in return. 

“Nothing is the matter Ross. Valentine was kind enough to try and help clean the broken dish but we got distracted, didn’t we?”

Demelza moved the boy so she could look at his face and smiled gently.  The boy went to wipe his eyes with his hands but she quickly took a napkin from the table and did it for him.  Holding his chin so he wouldn’t move, she dabbed his cheeks. She then held the cloth to his nose and Valentine blew.

“Good boy.  Now, why don’t you go with Jeremy and Clowance while…Ross and I finish here? Then perhaps we can read a story before bed.  Would you like that?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am,” he answered.

“Good.”

She let go of the child and stood, Ross’s hands still touching her to keep her steady.  Demelza turned to face him and he stared back at her, amazed at her calm demeanor and attitude.  She said nothing but proceeded to give him a light kiss then went to her children.

“Will you both take Valentine and show him around?  I think he’ll stay in your room Jeremy for the time being,” Demelza said simply and with no room for arguing.

“Yes Mama,” her son said.

Demelza looked over her shoulder at Ross, who raised an eyebrow signaling that he would explain later.  She understood then held her hand out to Valentine.

“Now don’t the three of you get into any trouble and don’t bother Jane for any sweets, understood?”

Her motherly tone returned which caused Clowance’s face to fall.

“Yes Mama,” she said.

“Good.”

The trio left the room, with Clowance leading the way, oblivious to any tension between the boys.  Ross watched from the table, pouring a fresh glass of brandy as his wife handled the situation with ease.  When the children were out of sight, Ross went to Demelza and pulled her into his embrace.

“How are you my love?” he asked.

“I’m fine Ross.”

She smiled but sounded weary, almost resigned. He nodded then put his hand on her abdomen.

“And the little one? Is she causing you any grief?”

Demelza looked down to where Ross’s hand lay caressing her body then lifted her gaze to his.

“No love. She’s no more trouble than the offspring we have already.”

As soon as she the words were out, Demelza knew what she had said.  A silence came over the room because she was no longer speaking only about Jeremy and Clowance.

“Demelza about that,” Ross started to say but Demelza put her finger on his lips and followed that with a kiss.

“Not right now Ross. I still have this mess to contend with.  One family issue at a time,” she said.

Always pragmatic, Demelza moved out of his arms and back to the broken dish and splattered food. Ross followed and immediately went about continuing the clean up that Valentine had started.

“Ross!” she scolded.

“Demelza!” he countered.

They stared at each other, challenging what the next step needed to be. Ross gave her a pointed look and Demelza relented.  Instead of arguing, she busied herself with removing the remnants of dinner and putting them on a tray to be carried away.  Once finished she debated taking the dishes into the kitchen herself but suddenly felt achy. She sat down and poured a glass of port, hoping it would ease the tension in her body.  Closing her eyes, she twisted her neck trying to get the kinks out while she squirmed in the seat trying to get comfortable.   She was about to take a sip when she felt a pair of strong hands on her shoulders.  Leaning into the touch, she forgot about the drink and let Ross’s fingers work on her muscles.  Within minutes, his ministrations had her feeling warm and relaxed.

“Hmm…” she murmured.

“Better, my love?” he said softly.

“Much,” she replied.

Ross leaned down and placed his lips on her neck, alternating between soft kisses and gentle sucking of her skin. Soon Demelza’s breathing came in short gasps and from his position behind her, Ross’ eyes couldn’t help but travel down to the rising and falling of her breasts. Her curves were always tempting to Ross but with this last pregnancy, Demelza’s body seemed more curvaceous and womanly than the previous times.  He had mentioned it to her once and she dismissed it as a result of getting older; she felt her body was not what it was when she had Julia.

“Demelza,” he said against her shoulder.

“Yes, Ross.”

Reaching down he pulled her up to face him so he could kiss her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing her cheek next to his.  Despite her girth, Ross was still able to reach around her, almost fully encasing her in his clutches.  They stood like that, each of them leaning into and on each other when the peace was broken by the sound of feet bursting into the room.

“Mama! Why can’t Valentine stay with me?  My room is bigger!” Clowance said as she ran to her parents, forcing them to separate as she wedged between them. 

“Young lady!”

Ross’s voice bellowed through the room bringing the oncoming boys to stop short of joining the fray.  Jeremy and Valentine stood frozen in the middle of the parlor waiting for Ross’s next command.

“Clowance, since when do you behave like Garrick chasing a rabbit?  You almost hurt Mama running to her like that,” Ross said with a glance to his wife.

The little girl stepped back and looked up at her mother. Demelza raised one eyebrow but did nothing more. Nothing more was needed because just that look was enough to send the little girl into a fit of tears. She threw her arms around her mother, careful of the new sibling she carried.

“I’m sorry Mama,” Clowance said, sniffling.

Demelza looked down and tilted her daughter’s chin up so she could assess her apology.  Like Ross, Clowance often had a way to say what she thought people wanted to hear with sincerity a second thought. This time, however, she could tell the child was truly sorry for her actions.

“Alright, but tell me why you felt the need to do that?  Between you and your brother, you’re not giving our guest a very good impression.  He’ll think he’s staying with uncouth street urchins, rather than Poldarks,” she said.

Brushing the hair out of her face, Clowance looked around the room. She saw her father give her a crooked smile but nothing other than blank stares from her brother and Valentine.  Instead of becoming upset, the Poldark side came out and Clowance stuck her chin out taking a stubborn stance.  The reason for her outburst returned and she was determined to find out why she couldn’t get her way.

“Why can’t Valentine share my room?” she asked again.

Demelza looked past her to Ross who just shook his head and tamped down the laugh that was bubbling to the surface.  His wife did not appreciate this because now she had to explain to her daughter why her wish could not be granted.

“Clowance, boys and girls don’t usually share bedrooms,” Demelza explained.

“You and Papa share a room,” she retorted.

“That’s because they’re married,” Jeremy chimed in.

With that interruption, Ross couldn’t hold his laughter back any longer and Demelza followed.   Soon Jeremy joined in setting Clowance to pout even more.  The only one whose mood seemed to match hers was Valentine.  She stared at the boy but he didn’t return the gesture.  Frustrated that her wishes were being ignored she turned and left the room. 

“I’ll go to her,” Ross said.

He walked to Demelza, leaned close to her and kissed her cheek.

“Don’t let her spin you around her finger,” Demelza warned.

“I have a little resolve when it comes to women, “ he whispered.  “Only one woman has ever been able to make me bend to her whims.”

She gave him a smile as he kissed her again then went to find their stubborn daughter.  With a sigh, Demelza turned to the boys but instead of scolding them, decided the situation allowed for her to get things back to normal.

“Jeremy, why don’t you and Valentine take this tray into the kitchen for me,” she said.

Her son looked at his mother then at Valentine.  He knew that he had escaped his father’s wrath earlier but he also knew that his mother had other ways of punishing him that didn’t seem like punishment.  He knew this was one of them.  Whenever Demelza was displeased with him or his sisters, chores were added to their normal duties.

“Yes mama,” he said. 

Jeremy went to the table and waited for Valentine to join him.  He put his hands on one end of the tray as Valentine took the other.  Then carefully, as if they were carrying the most delicate of items, the boys walked in unison to the kitchen.  Demelza watched them then wearily started to blow out the candles. She suddenly felt extremely tired, the weight of her unborn child pressing on her lower abdomen.   Once the room was darkened, Demelza felt herself go and a tear slipped down her cheek.  It was followed by another and soon she was sobbing silently, the events of the day finally catching up with her.  Sitting down at the table, Demelza held her head in her hands and let it all go.  She didn’t see Jeremy and Valentine standing at the door nor did she hear Ross come down the stairs and join them.  Bending to the children he led them to the stairs and told them to go to bed.

“Get settled and I’ll be up shortly,” Ross said.

Jeremy quietly said, “Yes Papa.  Is Mama alright?”

Ross looked into the room at his wife then down to his son.

“Yes, my boy.  She will be.  Now, do as I ask so I can take care of your mother.”

The boy nodded then looked at Valentine and wordlessly told him to follow.  The children made their way upstairs as Ross moved into the room.

“Demelza?  What is it?”

He crouched next to her, taking her hands in his and cupping her cheek.

“’Tis nothing, Ross.  I think I’m just tired.  It’s all been a little overwhelming.”

“I’m sorry my love. Once again it seems something I’ve done has upset you,” Ross said.

She wiped at her eyes and stared at him.

“Don’t start Ross Poldark.  Not tonight.  Not now.  I’m just tired.  So I’m going to go to bed after I check on the children,” she said standing up.

“No, you will not.  I will check on the children.  You just go to bed.”

His voice was firm and reminiscent of the early days when he was still her master and she his kitchen maid.  Not wanting to bicker about being ordered about, Demelza did as he suggested. 

“Fine,  Ross. But will you make sure the boys have not torn the room or each other apart?”

She spoke as she walked towards the doorway, not looking back. Ross watched her retreat then went about closing up the parlor before following her up the stairs.  He knew the conversation they’d been avoiding was coming; but first a look in on the subject at hand.  Ross stopped by Clowance’s room and peering in saw his tow-haired daughter sound asleep with Garrick at her side.  The sight reminded him of her mother’s first days and how that uncouth mongrel was Demelza’s protector in her new surroundings.  The memory made him smile as he slowly closed the door.  Then he reached the door to Jeremy’s room and leaned against it listening for any sign of discord.  There was nothing.  Again, opening the door he peeked in to see the boys asleep next to each other in the small matching beds.  Ross entered, needing to take another look at this boy who had entered their lives.  As he approached Valentine he felt his chest tighten.  While Elizabeth offered no concrete proof as to her son’s parentage, staring at this child’s face made it clear to Ross that more likely than not, her son was also his son.  He couldn’t explain why except for a feeling that overcame him.  His gaze traveled to the boy in the next bed. The child of his wife; born from strife but who brought such joy.  The love he felt for Jeremy was deep-rooted.

After the conversation with Elizabeth in Sawle church, Ross’s take on his family changed. The love for Jeremy and Clowance as well grew stronger after learning of the possibility that he fathered another son, a child he could never acknowledge or love as a parent should; the inability to raise one led to his devotion to the other. Perhaps he was channeling some feelings for the unknown child to them.  No matter, for his nucleus family reaped the benefits of it and the years since have been filled with love and laughter.  Ross’s worry was that Valentine would upset the calm they’d finally found.  Would his presence be the reminder of his one major failing?  So far Demelza had not shown any signs of letting it but he knew his wife had emotions that didn’t always reveal themselves right away. The task for Ross was to keep her calm until her confinement and then, when needed, deal with their new family dynamic.  With that resolve he turned and left the room to join his wife, silently hoping she might already be asleep to avoid the inevitable.

*~~~~~~~*

Demelza was sitting at the dressing table getting ready for bed, her mind wandering. The events of the day paired with her condition had worn her out to the point of barely being able to change.  Usually meticulous about how she treated her clothing, tonight she let the dress and petticoat lay in a pile on the end of the bed. As she slipped on her nightgown, Demelza looked down at her swollen body and marveled that once again she and Ross’s love produced another child to welcome into the family. She basked in that for a moment and then thought of the child that joined them earlier.  Neither was expected but unlike the son or daughter she carried, the boy wasn’t exactly a welcomed surprise.

She remembered the time she came face to face with him, shortly before Elizabeth died. Little did she know that this first meeting with Valentine would be the last with his mother. The memory was bittersweet, even sad, for while she and Elizabeth were never friends, Demelza never expected her to die so young, ending her life before she could see her children grow or possibly allow the women to become friends.  Any jealousy or insecurity had gone long before that day in the fall of 1799.  By that meeting she and Elizabeth had come to a common truce, each knowing where they fit in Ross’s life.  And without the formal confirmation of Valentine’s parentage, each could let their lives go on with some sense of normalcy.  It was because she had made peace with it all that Demelza was able to accept Valentine into their home.

Perhaps it was looking into a face that resembled not only Ross but Jeremy as well, which softened her heart.  She knew, even if the words weren’t uttered out loud that Valentine Warleggan was most likely her husband’s other son. She wasn’t fooling herself into forgetting how the child came to be. Yet as she told Ross earlier, it was not the child’s fault and he shouldn’t be the one punished.  But should she? Or her own children? This was the thought that repeated itself over and over as she braided her hair. Idly she separated her long mane, her focus was not on anything in particular when Ross entered.  Her gaze had fallen to the small shells that sat on her dressing table so she didn’t immediately hear him enter.  In fact, she had no awareness of his presence until he came up behind her and she caught sight of him in the mirror.

“Ross!” she said, letting out a breath.

“My love?  You sound surprised to see me,” he teased.

Ross leaned down and placed a kiss on her shoulder, then let his chin rest there, sharing a look in the mirror. Demelza stopped plaiting her hair to touch his cheek.

“Just surprised that I didn’t hear you come in.  And if I was surprised, is it wise to sneak in like a tomcat around an expectant mother?”

His face broke into a grin that made Demelza smile as well.  The troubles of the day eased as the couple reconnected over a simple task.  Demelza finished with her hair then stood, pressing a hand to her back while she closed her eyes.  Ross watched her, concerned that these sudden changes were taking a toll on not only her but their child.  He worried that this new situation would be another test of their marriage as it resurrected the past.  With a new found determination. Ross was ready to face this issue head-on.  He started to undress as Demelza got into bed.  She settled against the pillows, leaning her head against the frame, watching him under hooded eyes. Ross went on changing into his own nightshirt without turning towards her, amused that she blatantly stared at him.  They often teased about the time she had spied on him all those years ago when he swam in the cove after his night in Truro.  Ross was shocked at her brazenness but flattered at the same time.  He often wondered how he would have reacted if he’d found out at the time of her interest in him.  Would things have progressed differently?  Would he have pursued her, leaving Elizabeth behind sooner, instead of waiting for Demelza to come to him?  Again thoughts of the past crossed his mind, returning because of the appearance of an eight-year-old boy. 

Ross joined Demelza in bed, wrapping his arm around her, drawing her to him.  She laid her head on his shoulder, her breath, slow and steady as she rubbed her belly, trying to lull her child to sleep.  Since dinner, the babe had been restless as if needing to remind Demelza of its presence and imminent arrival. Ross’s eyes drifted down, watching her movements and added his hand to hers.  He felt their child squirming underneath their fingers; the wonder of it never gets old.  And again, the thought of one other child, whose birth he’d only seen from a distance, came to mind.  He kissed Demelza’s head then moved around to find her lips.  Instinctively she tilted her head up to meet him.   Their kiss was warm and full of love. When they parted, she returned to her position on his shoulder and Ross spoke.

“Demelza? Tell me the truth. What are your real thoughts about Valentine?”

She moved but did not sit to face him.

“You want the truth?  The truth is I don’t know my real thoughts, Ross,” she said.

“But you seem so calm, so accepting,” he replied.

Demelza smiled against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his torso.

“Do I? Perhaps I am now.  Tomorrow might see another Demelza,” she said.

They sat in silence for a bit, each beginning to doze off when the serenity was broken by Demelza this time.

“It seems that _you_ are not calm my love.  How are you feeling about this situation?” she asked.

“In what way?”

“Having him here but not as a Poldark.  Knowing he can never carry your name,” she answered.

Her bluntness was no surprised so Ross took her hand and held it before bringing it up to his lips and kissing her ring.

“Honestly.  I don’t know Demelza.  That…night…was the biggest regret of my life.  Not only for what I did to Elizabeth but for what I did to you.  To our marriage.  To our family.  All because of some built up fantasy and never-ending stubbornness.  I realize now I should have listened to you that night.”

“Yes, you should have.”

He said nothing but kissed her head again.

“And I’ve learned that lesson. So now I am asking you.  What should we do? How do we proceed?”

Demelza did sit up now. Not just to look at him since it appeared they were going to have this conversation now but because their child was not cooperating either.  A sure sign of things to come.

“I’m don’t know Ross.  I’m not going to deny that Valentine coming isn’t just adding another child to our household; it’s a clear and present reminder of what almost broke us,” she said softly.

“Demelza, I’m so sorry that…”

“Enough. What’s done is done where that night is concerned.  However there is another party to that and he’s in the room down the hall sleeping next to our son,” she said.

Her voice was steady but Ross knew her mind was swirling with thoughts and feelings that were not as steady.

“So what are you saying?  That we treat Valentine as one of our own?”

“He _is_ one of your own Ross.”

Taking a deep breath, he knew she was right.  And while knowing of Valentine’s presence at Trenwith was hard enough, did he have the fortitude to see him every day, raising him alongside his other children?

“Yes, he is, isn’t he?”

“I believe so Ross.  And now he’s here, motherless and abandoned by the only father he’s known. So what are we to do except what we both know and feel is the right thing,” she said

“Are you sure?”

“Not entirely. But if we could weather the storm that created this situation, I think we can deal with the aftermath in the form of a little boy.”

Ross moved to face her, pulling her close so he could take her face in his hands.

“I said years ago how you made me ashamed.  In truth you amaze me with the amount of good you find in the darkest of places,” Ross responded.

“Thank you.  I suppose I should turn my back on this and let you or Valentine fend for yourselves. But I love you and because of that, I will put my doubts aside for your child.”

He said nothing because he knew if he tried to speak, tears would come in their stead.  This woman, whom he married out of obligation, who asked for nothing but his love once again stood by him as he faced the consequences of his actions.  He didn’t deserve her and she didn’t deserve what he seemed to continually put her through.  Yet she accepted it all and through her strength made him stronger as well.

“Very well my love.  Starting tomorrow, Valentine will be treated just as we do Jeremy and Clowance.  I’m not sure he will like that as he’s most likely used to being pampered.  But it can be no other way,” Ross said.

The decision was made and there was no turning back now

“You’re right.  And who knows, he might learn to stop frowning and start smiling.  Just like someone else I know.”

“Now who could you possibly be talking about?”

Demelza’s own smile came to her face before she leaned in and kissed him.

“I have no idea, my love. No idea at all.”

Sliding back down in the bed, the couple curled into each, as sleep came over them.  Tomorrow would come soon enough and with that, the dawn of a new Poldark family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay in posting this or anything else. Life and S4 seemed to derail me just a bit. But hopefully all is back on track and more updates and some new pieces should be coming. Until then, thank you for the support and mostly for continuing to read my works.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new Poldark is born as Valentine is drawn deeper into the family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I own nothing but the idea and take full responsibility for any errors or omissions.

The new day dawned with no remnants of the events from the previous night which was a blessing as Demelza began to feel the pains of childbirth soon after breakfast.  It was still a few weeks from her estimated due date but like Julia and Jeremy, this child seemed to have a mind of their own. Most likely wanting to see what the ruckus in the family was about, this latest Poldark offspring decided to make its arrival at their convenience.  She smiled to herself but still said nothing as she saw Ross go off to the mine before sitting the children down for their morning lessons, the daily routine now altered slightly with the addition of Valentine to the household.  Still, the three different but strangely similar children sat with quills and paper, tracing letters and calculating simple figures.   Having gone through this three times before she knew how long she had before things got too far along and so Demelza calmly sipped her tea, watching the youngsters while successfully hiding the twinges that came and went.  The only sound in the room was the scratch of the pens on the parchment nonetheless Jane caught the changes in her mistress’s face as she went around the room tidying up.  On one of the older woman’s passes by the table, Demelza gave her a warning look to say nothing.  This went on for another half an hour until the dull aches turned to sharp pains.

 Demelza took a breath then sent the children to go check on the new lot of piglets and instructed them to feed the small livestock.  As they trotted off she noticed that Jeremy still kept a distance from Valentine but that Clowance took his hand and practically dragged him out to follow her.  Wary at first, the dark-haired boy gave no resistance and obeyed her daughter.  Demelza stood, leaving her cup on the table amid the children’s things, not caring to clear anything away.  Her original intent was to begin making a pie for dinner but as she walked towards the kitchen, she was overtaken by pain that ripped through her back, catching her unawares.  She’d never felt this before until much later in the birthing process.  Grabbing hold of the door frame Demelza was about to call for Jane when her waters broke. With a cry, she doubled over, bringing the servant running.

“Mistress, I think I should send for Mister Ross,” the woman said putting her arm around Demelza to hold her up as she walked her to the stairs

“Yes, I believe that might be wise. But first, clean up this,” she said indicating the puddle on the floor. “I don’t want the children seeing or hearing anything.  Try and keep them occupied.”

Demelza started to make her way upstairs when she stopped with a thought.

“Jane, best to keep things as quiet as possible especially with our young visitor.  No need to give the village something more to talk about.  And I suppose Dwight should be called for as well,” she said.

Unlike her determined solo delivery of Clowance, Demelza was not so foolish to ignore the fact that she was eight years older and that since she was again delivering before her time, a doctor’s presence might be a good idea. Besides, she knew that Ross would be upset if she attempted another birth alone.

“Yes, ma’am.  I’ll send John to fetch Dr. Enys and have Ena look after the children until your brothers can be called.”

Jane had taken her apron off and knelt to wipe up the water as best she could when she heard a groan come from Demelza, another pain coursing through her.

“Judas!” Demelza cried, “I think we need to send for Dwight before anyone else, Jane.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The woman stopped what she was doing and called her husband. She quickly told him what was happening and sent him to Killewarren to retrieve Dwight.  Next, she sent one of the farmhands, another of the Martin clan to run to the mine and fetch Ross.  Finally, she went back in the house, wiped up the last of the birthing liquid then deposited the dirty material in the wash bin out back.  It was then that Jeremy noticed the rushed actions of the servant and his intuition felt that something was amiss. He was, after all, his mother’s son and therefore more sensitive to things around him, sometimes against his own good.  He slipped away from his sister and Valentine to follow Jane back into the kitchen. He quietly observed her gathering clean linen and putting a kettle on to heat when he heard his mother’s voice from above.  It wasn’t a usual call but more of a cry.

“Jane?  Where’s mama?”

Jane stopped what she was doing to go to the boy and took him by the shoulders.

“Seems the babe has decided to come early,” she said.

Jeremy’s face turned full of concern so Jane quickly added.

“Now there, no need to fret. Your father and Dr. Enys have been called and your mother is a strong woman,” she said reassuring the boy.

“I want to see her,” Jeremy said.  He pulled away from the servant to go to his mother.

“No, Master Jeremy. She wouldn’t want that. Stay with your sister and…Master Valentine,” Jane called but the boy ignored her.

He ran up the steps to his parent’s room reaching the door just as his mother was experiencing another pain.  Demelza was clutching the handle of her bedroom, trying to catch her breath when she heard her son’s voice.

“Mama?”

Demelza looked up to see her son staring at her with a worried look on his face.

“I’m fine my lover. No need to worry but I do need you to be brave and look after your sister and Valentine. Can you do that for me?”

Jeremy saw a change in his mother’s face, including the tears pooling in her eyes which frightened him.  He didn’t want to leave her but remembered how his father had counted on him to watch things while he was in London; this could be considered the same thing.  He also didn’t want to upset his mother any more than she was already.

“Yes, mama. Are you going to be alright?” he asked.

“Right as ever just as soon as your brother or sister makes their appearance. Now run off and do as I bid you. Keep the others occupied with Ena. Help her with some chores.  Perhaps go to the orchard and see if there are any apples left to pick for Jane to bake a tart.”

Demelza spoke slowly, trying desperately to hide the insistent pain that was now coming in a steady wave. Her eyes closed as the tears that had gathered began to slip down her cheeks.  She opened them just enough to see Jeremy’s face frozen in wonder and fear.  Jane arrived just as Demelza was about to reprimand her son for not doing her bidding.

“Come, Jeremy, do as your mother asked,” Jane said to the young boy.

The tousled head boy gave his mother a final look before letting Jane take his hand and lead him back to the others.  Demelza watched, making sure he was out of eyesight when she doubled over again, her hand gripping the door.

“Aah, Judas!  Are you going to be this much trouble when you arrive, little one?” she said.

“I’m sure this is just a preview of things to come,  my love.”

Demelza lifted her head to see Ross reaching for her.

“Ross!”

“Seems our daughter couldn’t wait,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her and escorted her into their room.

“’Twould seem so.  I don’t know why she couldn’t behave and come when I was prepared. And when we didn’t have other issues to deal with,” Demelza said, grimacing as she walked to the bed.

“Well then she wouldn’t be a Poldark would she?  Come, let’s get you into bed,” he said.

Ross began to undo her dress when Demelza halted his progress.

“No Ross. Go check on the children.  I can manage,” she said.

“I don’t think you can my love. Clearly, the pains are stronger and steadier than before.”

He continued to assist with her disrobing, pausing only long enough to go to the wardrobe to retrieve her nightgown. Demelza held the dress in place until he returned holding the gown up for her to put it on. She stared at her husband, hesitating in letting her clothes drop away.

 “Demelza, after fifteen years of marriage, three children and all we’ve been through you still want to isolate yourself during the birth of our next child.”

“Ross, please.”

Her words were more a moan than a statement. Ross saw her distress and made the decision for her. He moved her hands away, letting her dress fall around her feet. Then, without letting his gaze linger on her swollen body, he slipped the nightgown over her head. As the material settled around her, he saw her face contort indicating another pain was upon her.

“Hold tight to me, Demelza,” he said.

She said nothing but grasped his forearms and bent her head until it was pressed against his chest. He held her as she breathed through the contraction.

“I’m not going anywhere Demelza,” he whispered in her ear.  “At least not until Dwight gets here. And even then I may not leave your side. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” she grunted.  “It appears I am not in any position to quarrel.”

“I should say not. Now let’s get you into bed.”

He pulled back the covers, propped the pillows up so she could lean against them, then and lowered her into the bed, pulling the sheet up to cover her. 

“This reminds me of the time Julia was born,” she said.

“Yes. Except then you kicked me out then as well,” he said.

Ross sat down next to her, taking her hand in his. He absently ran his thumb over her wedding band. The simple gold circle that bound them so many years ago was still a symbol of the endless cycle of life.

Demelza managed a small smile as she spoke.

“I kicked you out for good reason.  I didn’t think you’d ever look at me again if you saw me in that state,” she said.

Ross laughed.

“Clearly that didn’t happen as evidenced by our multiple offspring,” he replied.

“No. It did not.”

She barely got the words out when she grimaced at another pain, this time she didn’t bother to hide it.  She gripped his hand and squeezed her eyes shut. Ross watched her yet knew better than to say anything but that didn’t stop him from worrying. His mind went through the previous births of the Poldark children.  Their first three were born with little incident; Julia arrived a month early, just as this child was doing and was no worse for it. She was strong and healthy until a disease took her and brought Demelza to the brink of death. Jeremy came after his wife’s venture to fish, a task she continued to perform much against his wishes. Never the less he was also a hale and happy child if just a bit more sensitive to his circumstances and surroundings.  That trait was obvious over the past twenty-four hours with the arrival of Valentine. Then there was Clowance, the child conceived during his and Demelza’s reconciliation after the event that brought their current situation. As if she knew she was born of strife, Clowance made her appearance with a bit of drama herself, with Demelza birthing her without the aid of a physician.

Now watching his wife go through this natural phenomenon again, Ross was amazed.  He was also concerned as Demelza was almost fifteen years older.  In those years she’d been through so much physically and emotionally that he was worried what toll this birth would take on her.  It had been eight years since the Clowance’s birth, filling Ross with concern that things would not go as smoothly as before or that Demelza would not recover as quickly.  From what he had witnessed so far, it seemed Demelza was in more pain and distress than seemed normal.

Now with the added burden of another child, Ross was certain it was the reason her labor started before expected. He knew that he could prevent each pregnancy but his love and desire for his wife made that impossible.  He also knew that Demelza would not agree to a marriage of celibacy. So here they were for the fourth time, waiting for his fifth child to be born. That thought came unbidden and struck a chord in him that he didn’t want to focus on.  Right now his only thoughts should be those of his wife and new son or daughter.

 “Where in the world is Dwight?” he said not to her in particular.

“Behind you.”

Turning he saw his friend at the door, a bright grin on his face which Ross did not find amusing.

“It’s about time,” Ross said standing to greet his friend.

Dwight Enys walked to the bed, giving his patient a quick assessment. Ignoring Ross, he spoke to Demelza.

“Demelza?  Can you tell me the degree of pain you are in?”

The doctor sat next to Demelza and lightly touched her brow before taking her wrist to determine her pulse.

“The usual Dwight,” she said as another cramp hit.  She moaned and rolled her body in an attempt to ease the tension in her abdomen and back.

“Really?  It seems more intense than before. Tell me the truth,” he said.

“Fine, it’s a little worse than with Clowance.  And quicker, it seems,” she said.

“Well, I don’t need to remind you that your last labor was eight years ago.  You are also a few weeks away from your expected date which sometimes results in stronger birthing pains.”

  Dwight had a fleeting thought of another birth he attended to only a few years prior that caused the mother to die.  Of course there were extenuating circumstances to that delivery that he would never share; still, Elizabeth Warleggan passed because of it.   He was remembering that time when Demelza’s face contorted as she fought the scream she wanted to release.  Against her will, a groan escaped as her body rebelled when another cramp ripped through her abdomen. Ross flew to the side of the bed and sat down.  Leaning towards Demelza he brushed the hair from her head and took hold of her hand.

“Judas!” she cried.

“My love,” he started to say but was interrupted by a cry from his wife that he hadn’t heard before and a numbing in his hand which was the result of her squeezing it just a bit harder than he anticipated.

“Ross, say nothin’.  Just go.”

Demelza looked up at her husband, tears at the ready but her eyes pleading for him to do as she asked.  Every instinct of his body told him to do as she bid despite his heart telling him to stay.  The last thing he wanted was to upset her during this time so, with a kiss to her lips, Ross moved to leave but not without telling her something he hadn’t said the last two times she gave birth to his children.

“I love you Demelza.  Always,” he whispered for her ears only.

“As do I Ross. Always,” she repeated.

With that, he rose and moved to leave her alone with Dwight who followed him to the door.

“I know what I’m going to say will fall on deaf ears, but don’t worry. She’ll be fine,” Dwight said.

“She must be, Dwight.  My life will be nothing without her,” Ross replied.

The doctor gave his friend a pat on his arm and sent him out, closing the door behind him.  Ross took a moment once he was expelled to listen for any further signs of Demelza’s distress.  All he could ascertain were muffled voices and a faint cry.  He knew that Dwight would take care of her but that did little to ease his concern.  He was about to go back into the room, despite his wife’s plea when he his son came running up the stairs.

“Papa!  Come quick! That boy is gone!”

*~~~~~~~*

Ross took hold of his son’s shoulders and steadied him as Jeremy was speaking in half sentences while trying to catch his breath. 

“What are you saying? What boy? Valentine?” he asked.

“Yes, Papa. Valentine.  I don’t know where he’s gotten to,” Jeremy said.

Ross could see that his son was not exaggerating as his daughter often did but that he was serious.  The boy grabbed his father’s hand and dragged him towards the steps, forcing Ross to follow even though he was in no mood to deal with wayward children; most especially one whose blood ties were unclear.  As he bounded down the stairs, Ross realized he couldn’t keep trying to fool himself.  He knew Valentine was the second son he could never acknowledge but did that mean he should let him flounder, holding back any paternal feelings he might have for the boy?

In his lifetime, Ross has shown compassion and concern for many people who had crossed his path. The first and most significant one was now in a bedroom preparing to give him his fifth child. And if he learned anything from Demelza, it was that whatever came their way could be handled if they had each other.  That philosophy had carried them through many storms which brought him back to the present.  He knew that if anything happened to Demelza he wasn’t sure he could handle what came his way without her.

“Papa!”

Now it was Clowance who called out. She came running towards him, throwing herself against his legs as he reached the foyer.

“Valentine ran away!” she cried.

Ross knelt down to face her. At that moment she was the mirror image of her mother with a mop of tangled strawberry blonde hair and eyes bright with worry.

“I doubt that my love.”

His daughter’s face got defiant, almost daring her father to answer.

“Then where is he?” she asked.

“I’m not sure but we will find him.  Now tell me what happened before you noticed Valentine was gone.”

Clowance thought for a moment then said, “Mama yelled.”

Ross stared at his daughter, now more confused than before. He knew Demelza would never do such a thing. Besides she was in confinement for the past hour.

“Clowance, when did mama yell?”

Jeremy approached them and looked at his father and sister.

“She didn’t yell at us Papa,” he explained. “It was when you were upstairs with Uncle Dwight.  We heard Mama yell.”

Suddenly it became clear to Ross what the children heard and he was temporarily embarrassed.  The one thing Demelza didn’t want was for the children to be close by while she labored to deliver their child.  Now, not only did he have to deal with finding Valentine, he’d have to explain to Demelza what happened.  The latter issue could wait because the priority now was finding Valentine with his children’s help.  He led them into the parlor and sat them both down on the settle.  Glancing from one to the other, he saw brother and sister exchange looks.  Ross wondered if they were telling the truth about the events surrounding Valentine’s disappearance or were they embellishing for dramatic effect.  Knowing that Jeremy was his mother’s child and honest to a fault he turned to his son for an explanation.

“Jeremy, tell me again exactly what you were doing when you think Valentine ran away,” Ross asked.

 “We were doing chores as Mama asked and Clowance needed help with the goats.  Valentine and I were going outside when we heard Mama yelling.  After that, Valentine just went running. I told him to stop but he kept going,” Jeremy said.

Ross thought about this but had no idea why the child would run.  He stepped away from his offspring to pour a glass of rum.  Contemplating the tale Jeremy told he thought maybe a fact was missing.

“Jeremy, did Valentine do or say anything before he ran?”

“No Papa, I don’t think so,” the boy said.

Clowance jumped up from her seat to interrupt again.

“No Jeremy, don’t you remember?  He said something about his mother,” Clowance said.

Ross looked at his daughter.

“His mother?  What did he say, Clowance?”

“I don’t  know exactly Papa, but he left after that.”

What could Elizabeth have to do with Valentine’s behavior?  Ross’s hope to get answers from his children led to nothing but frustration.  The issue now was not why the boy left but finding where he went.  There were many hiding places in and around Nampara that were conducive to children hiding.  Valentine didn’t know about those yet so Ross was at a loss.  Unless….

“Clowance, you’re sure he mentioned his mother?”

“Yes Papa, I’m sure.”

Ross had an idea where the boy might have gone and if he was quick might catch up to him before he got too far. 

“Jane!” he called.

The servant came running out of the kitchen to her master’s bidding.

“Yes, sir?”

“I must leave to find Master Valentine.  Keep an eye on the children but do not tell Demelza what’s happened.  I will be back as quickly as possible.”

*~~~~~~~*

Ross ran out of the house to jump on his horse.  Spurring the beast with a kick to his flank, Ross headed towards Trenwith.  He assumed the child wanted to go home so made his way to the old Poldark homestead.  He was riding without paying much attention to his surroundings when he saw a small figure by the path that led to Sawle Church.  As he got closer it was clear that figure belonged to Valentine.  He slowed his horse to a gentle gallop and came up beside the boy.

“Valentine? Where are you going?”

The child looked up at him where Ross saw tears in the child’s eyes.  Unsettled, Ross pulled the horse to a stop and dismounted.  Looking down at Valentine, Ross waited for an answer. What the child said next was not the response Ross expected.

“Is she going to die?”

His voice was small and quiet. It was then that Ross realized how lost and vulnerable this boy was.  That just because he was being raised by George with all the propriety that befits his station, it did not make him any more sophisticated or worldly than his own children.  Ross caught himself with that thought because this boy too was his own child.  He needed to accept that fact despite the hurtful circumstances that surrounded it. It became apparent that Valentine was going through some sort of trauma triggered by Demelza’s confinement.  After a moment the reason became clear.  Of course, Ross thought.  Staring at the child it dawned on him why Valentine asked that peculiar question. 

“Valentine?  Are you thinking of your mother?” he asked.

Ross knelt down to face the child and saw him give a slight nod.

“Yes, sir.”

At that moment, Ross remembered the last time he saw Elizabeth alive, not knowing that the meeting would be the last.  Then he remembered kissing her lifeless body after she had delivered her daughter.  The heartache he felt was overwhelming so he could only imagine what Valentine felt.  In truth, Ross _could_ imagine as it was most likely similar to his own pain when his mother, Grace, had died.  Then he was left with a father who did not always express his feelings for his son as he should. With George as his father figure, Ross assumed Valentine was faced with the same fate.  He could blame himself but as Demelza reminded him over the years, there was no way to acknowledge the child without harming their own family and the memory of Elizabeth.  Most especially, the person who would experience the greatest fallout was this boy.

“Valentine, Demelza will be fine.  What happened to your mother…was unfortunate and a tragedy for all.  Most especially you and your sister.  But that is not going to happen today.  Do you understand?”

Valentine searched Ross’s face expecting consternation but only saw compassion. He was not used to such tenderness from adults. 

“Yes. But how can you be so sure?  Mama was fine and then she died.  Why do things like that happen?” he asked.

Ross realized that this discussion would not end quickly and could not be brushed away. So, with a growing ache in his ankle, the site of his old war wound, he stood, then took Valentine’s hand and led him to a low stone wall that lined the path.  Placing him on the rocks, Ross sat down beside him but did not look at the boy.  He looked out at the horizon, over the cliffs where so much of his life took place.  His mind’s eye seemed to play tricks on him as he saw the young Elizabeth running from him the days before he left for war.  Then the picture changed to one of his wife, walking with him after the pilchards came in that first year of marriage when his heart transferred from his first love to his everlasting love.  His dilemma now was finding a way to explain to this boy that Elizabeth’s death was something that could not be avoided or predicted and that Demelza’s fate would not end the same way.

“I can’t answer why things like death happen to people who are young or healthy.  I don’t think anyone can.  Your mother died for some reason we might never know and while we don’t understand we need to accept it.  When it happened to my mother I was about your age,” Ross said.

“You, sir? Your mother died too?” Valentine asked.

“Yes.  It wasn’t expected and like you, I felt her loss keenly.”

Valentine kept his eyes trained on Ross, who continued.

“Also, like you, my father was not always the most accessible. Sometimes, for various reasons, he couldn’t be with me. But I always wanted to believe he cared for me.”

As he spoke, Ross knew that the words he spoke were as much about Valentine’s circumstances as his own.  

“Did your papa stay away from you? Mine does.  Sometimes it seems likes he is away forever,” Valentine said.

Ross thought about his next statement because if he said the wrong thing, more questions could arise in the child.

“Yes, he did. But he always came back.  Just like your own papa,” he offered.

Saying nothing, Valentine nodded.  Ross felt that the rest of the conversation could be carried out at home and as such, moved to return to Nampara and Demelza.  If they delayed much longer, he’d miss the birth of this child too.

“Come Valentine. Demelza is going worry if we are gone too long us so let’s be off back to Nampara,” he said.

Sweeping the boy up, he deposited him on the saddle then swung up behind him. 

“Sir?  Do you believe that when people die they stay to look after you?”

Now the conversation was turning more philosophical than he was prepared to deal with.  Ross was never a man of faith, but he didn’t want to relate that to Valentine.  Besides he did have some beliefs that many dismissed. For instance, he believed that fate brought him to Redruth the day he came upon Demelza.  And he believed if that meeting hadn’t happened, more lives would have been misdirected to futures that shouldn’t have been; for as he realized when Elizabeth died, she was never meant to be his first and only love.  And while at the time of his return he felt betrayed, as years passed and his life with Demelza fell into place, he admitted that things ended up as they should.  Who’s to say that if Francis hadn’t died that his cousin and Elizabeth wouldn’t have been quite content, possibly with more children? What he did know was that he would not go back and change anything except for one misdirected night. But then, he would not be here with this child and quite possibly, his life with Demelza would not have produced Clowance and now this new child.  The fate that life hands us is, as Aunt Agatha once said, already laid out in the cards we are dealt.  It’s just how we handle those events that determine our life’s direction.

“Sir?”

He looked down at Valentine who turned to get an answer from him.

“Yes my boy, I do believe that people do continue to look down on us when they are gone.  Come now, no more talk of death.  Let’s get back to Nampara and find Jeremy and Clowance, shall we?”

“Yes sir,” he said.

“We will have to find something else for you to call me.  Sir is much too formal,” Ross said.

The boy smiled and turned to face forward, his eyes on the path ahead.  Ross gently touched the wild curls on Valentine’s head before taking the reins to lead them home.

*~~~~~~~*

As they reached the front gate, Clowance and Jeremy came running towards them.

“Papa, Mama is yelling something fierce.  I’ve never heard her sound like that before.  She’s saying things that I don’t understand,” Clowance burst out.

Ross should have been more concerned for Demelza but was amused at the thought of her Illogan roots reappearing during the birthing process.  He could only imagine how many cries of  ‘Judas’ came from her while he was gone.  He alit from the horse then reached up to help Valentine to the ground. 

“Papa! You found Valentine too!” Clowance cried going towards the boy.

“Yes, my love. I told you I would.  Now, why don’t you and your brother take Master Valentine out to Mama’s garden and find some flowers for her?  I think she’d like that after the day she’s having.”

His suggestion was met with a smile by his daughter but less enthusiasm by the boys.  He almost thought of them as his “sons” but held that at bay. However, looking at the three children now, together in a group, it was hard to remember they were not of all of the same parentage as the similarities between them were becoming more obvious. 

“Papa, picking flowers is for girls,” Jeremy moaned.

Ross smiled and went over to the trio.

“You’ll learn soon enough my boy, that women take a fancy to men who offer simple gestures like flowers.  Or kind words.  Like poetry.”

Jeremy wrinkled his nose at that, still too young to appreciate girls as anything more than beings such as his sister who he was convinced was put in his life torment him.  Ross, on the other hand, knew from past history that all he said was true.  The memory of a foreign plant given by a young poet still resonated at Nampara; the magnolia still struggled to bloom in their garden, never quite finding contentment in the Cornish soil.  He glanced towards the direction of the garden when another cry came from the house.  This time he heard his wife clearly, sending all thoughts of flowers and poetry by the wayside as he ran into the house.

“Jeremy, be a good boy and look after the others. I need to go to mama,” Ross said as he flew into the house.

Taking the steps two at a time he reached their bedroom just as he heard the cry of an infant.  Unable to wait any longer, Ross opened the door to see Demelza lying in their bed, soiled linens being gathered by Jane and Dwight holding a small bundle.  He stared at her for a moment, taking in the vision of his wife: her long red hair falling in waves around her, damp wisps framing her face; her cheeks flushed pink with the slightest shimmer of perspiration, and her eyes bright. One would never know she’d just gone through one of the most traumatic events a woman can experience, physically and emotionally.  He was reminded of how she looked after Clowance was born but there was something different about her this time. Perhaps the fact that this child was born completely out of love and at a time in their marriage that was without any kind of strife was what he saw reflected in her demeanor.

“Demelza!”

Ross ran to her side, ignoring the look of horror on Jane’s face.  He needed to be near Demelza.

“Ross, I told you I’d call for you when I was ready,” she said, her voice raspy and tired.

“My love, this is one time I couldn’t obey your request,” he replied.

“One time?” she countered.

Ross smiled at her, knowing she was right.  How often had he not heeded her wishes only to have it lead to something unpleasant?

“Let’s not discuss your innate perception to my shortcomings, Demelza.  The question should be how are _you_?”

He grasped her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently. Next, he leaned over and touched her lips with his, the contact making her respond automatically.

“I’m fine.  I think I did well for a woman my age,” she said.

Dwight turned to her and grinned, the swaddled baby squirming in his arms.

“Your age?  You make it sound like you you’ve reached dotage.  But, never mind about that.  Here, take a look at your daughter,” Dwight said.

He walked to the couple and placed the tiny girl in Demelza’s arms.  Cradling their daughter, Demelza let the tears fall. Ross tried to fight having the same reaction but failed.  After so many childless years, where both he and Demelza thought their family was complete, the arrival of this daughter was more than just a gift; it was an affirmation of their love and the family they had built together.  For despite the trials and tribulations they’d faced over the course of the marriage, both of them knew that nothing would break them. Not first loves or poets or a boy with dark curls and eyes.

“What name have you chosen, my love?” Ross asked.

He reached out to touch his daughter’s cheek, once again in awe of the miracle his wife had given him.

“Isabella Rose,” Demelza replied without any hesitation.

Ross looked up at her face, still wet from her tears.  He stretched his arm out to cup her face and bring it close to his own.  His thumb brushed the moisture away before placing a kiss on her lips.  He pulled away and bent his head to connect with hers.

“Where did you come up with that?”

“I don’t know exactly.  I think I read it in a book?  Do you like it?” she asked.

“It’s lovely.  Just like our daughter. And you,” he said.

Demelza’s eyes filled again but this time no tears fell. Instead, she smiled at him while caressing Isabella. 

“I think you have this under control so I’ll take my leave,” Dwight said. “Demelza, I know I’m probably wasting my breath, but please stay in bed for at least a day.  No planting in the garden or riding on the cliffs. Understood?”

Dwight stood at the foot of the bed holding his bag with his coat thrown over this arm.  He glanced from one Poldark to the other, a smirk on his face.

“Yes, Dr. Enys.  Understood.”

Ross answered for his wife who, for the first time, did not contradict either man.  Dwight, knowing it best to leave while he had the upper hand, started towards the door.   When he opened it, the younger Poldarks and their guest were standing in the hall trying desperately to peek into the room.

“Ross?  I think you have some visitors,” Dwight said as he stood aside so the children could be seen.

Ross stood and turned around to face the youngsters while Demelza kept the baby quiet.   He gave Demelza a quick glance silently asking if she were ready for company.  Nodding, Demelza held her hand out to the three who immediately took that as a sign to go to the bed.  Clowance led the way.  Jeremy followed with Valentine trailing behind, clearly unsure of his presence in this scenario.

“Mama!  You have a baby! Can I see?” Clowance cried as she jumped on the bed to get close to her mother.

“Clowance Poldark!  Is that how you behave?”

The little girl froze at the sound of her father’s deep baritone voice.  Ross moved to where she sat and took a place near her. He said nothing.  The stern look on his face said all that needed to be said and the little girl knew it.  Her upper lip quivered sending pangs of guilt to her father.  Like her mother, Clowance had Ross Poldark wrapped around her finger.

“There, there, my girl,” he said pulling her into his embrace.  “No need for tears.  I just wanted you to be mindful of your mother and new sister.”

Hearing the words “new sister”, Clowance recovered quickly to look from her father to her mother and then to the figure wrapped in a blanket.

“I have a sister?” she said excitedly.

“Yes my lover,” Demelza answered. 

She pulled the swaddling back so the littlest Poldark could be seen by her siblings.  Clowance looked to her father for permission to move closer her mother.  He nodded and watched as she crawled across the bed to sit next to Demelza.  She kept her hands in her lap until her mother moved the baby closer to her.

“Say hello to Isabella Rose,” Demelza said. 

The boys kept their distance at the foot of the bed, watching with wide-eyed curiosity, unsure what they should be doing.  Ross saw that Valentine held a small bunch of slightly wilting blue wildflowers in his fist.

“Come here both of you,” Ross said gesturing for them to come to his side. 

The boys approached the side of the bed where Ross sat but made no attempt to get close to Demelza and the infant. They seemed perfectly content to stand where they were.  Ross watched their faces and saw wonder in Jeremy’s eyes but swore he saw the sadness in Valentine’s.   He looked up and noticed Demelza staring at him as Clowance cooed at Isabella.   During this exchange, Valentine stayed by Ross’s side.  Ross felt, rather than saw the boy’s presence and so tilted his head to gaze at him. Valentine’s eyes were wide as he looked at Demelza and the baby.

“Valentine?  Would you like to see Isabella?” Demelza asked.

Again Ross was astounded at her tenderness towards this child, who now moved closer to Ross, craning his neck to look over his shoulder at Demelza and Isabella.  As she did before, Demelza held her free hand out to Valentine and waited for him to take it. With encouragement from Ross, the boy moved around him to touch Demelza’s hand as he stood next to the bed.  Clowance moved aside allowing Valentine to look down at the baby then back up at Demelza. She smiled but didn’t make another attempt to draw him to her.  After a moment the boy slowly climbed on the bed to sit next to Clowance still clutching the flowers.   Ross and Demelza watched the slow progression of this child melding with their family.

“Valentine, come look at Baby Bella,” she said in a sing-song voice.

“Her name is Isabella,” Jeremy corrected.

“I like Bella. It’s easier to say,” Clowance said.

Ross couldn’t help but smile at his daughter and her rationale.  Demelza was also amused at Clowance’s tenacity to get what she wanted even in the naming of this new child but more importantly, she was impressed with her taking to Valentine without a second thought.    

“Bella?  I like it. What do you say, Ross?” Demelza asked sweetly.

“I say Bella Poldark it is.”

Clowance’s face broke into a huge grin as she clapped her hands, startling the little one.  The first whimper turned into a cry which Demelza quickly moved to halt. She lifted the baby and determined that a feeding might be in order.  However, she needed to change the atmosphere in the room before doing so.

“Ross, I think it best you take the children downstairs,” Demelza said.

Ross saw the struggle on his wife’s face and became concerned.

“Demelza, are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes, Ross.  Though, I think Bella and I need some privacy,” she replied.

She looked around at the curious faces of the children and Ross understood her meaning.

“I see.  I’ll get the children settled with Jane and then come back.”

“There is no need, Ross. I believe I can manage this,” she said, trying to soothe Bella into cooperating until she could mollify her.

“I’m sure you can my love, but after the excitement of the past few days, I think some quiet time with you and Bella would be welcome,” he explained.

“What are you talking about?  Has something happened that I should know about?”

Demelza’s attention turned to her husband now as she felt he was hiding something from her.  Without realizing it, Ross glanced at Valentine who bowed his head so as to avoid making eye contact with either of the adults.  Demelza now knew that something had transpired between the children and Ross.

“Ross?”

She cradled Bella and gently rocked her as she waited for an answer.  He moved closer to her so he could speak in a low voice. There was no need to reignite the issue again within earshot of their offspring and their guest.

“A slight misunderstanding with Valentine, my love.  But we’ve squared it all away.  Haven’t we young man?”

Ross turned towards Valentine who nodded slowly.

“Yes sir,” Valentine answered.

“So you see Demelza, all is well.  There is no need to dwell on it anymore.  A more important issue arose that we do need to address,” he said.

Now Demelza was paying rapt attention to the exchange between her husband and the boy as Bella’s needs were temporarily forgotten.

“What’s that Ross?” she asked.

She wasn’t quite sure she wanted to hear it if it had anything to do with Valentine’s heritage.

“Well, I don’t relish being called ‘Sir’ by a child in our home.  Don’t you agree?”

He smiled at her now and she relaxed. She understood what he was trying to do and that was to ease the tension between themselves, Valentine and their own children.  She also knew that there was more to whatever event happened earlier but that he was hesitant to discuss at the moment.

“I see.  Well, I’m sure we can think of something that Valentine can call you,” she offered.

“Yes. I knew you’d have the solution, “Ross said.

Bella started wriggling again and turning her head towards her mother, clearly on a mission to satisfy her hunger.

“Ross I think it best to you take them now,” she said.

“Of course,” Ross said as Demelza started to get herself and the baby ready to nurse.

He tried to wrest the trio away from the bed but not before each of them moved to give Demelza a kiss on the cheek.  Led by Jeremy, he was followed by Clowance and then, a step behind the others, Valentine.  The boy gently placed a kiss on Demelza’s cheek, a blush coming to his own. Taken with the gesture, Demelza smiled, grateful that the little boy seemed to be coming around.  They proceeded to walk away when Demelza called out.

“Valentine?”

Everyone stopped to turn and look at her.

“Yes Ma’am?” he said shyly.

“Thank you for the flowers. They’re lovely.”

Valentine blushed at the kindness bestowed upon him.  Unfortunately, Jeremy was not too pleased with the attention this boy was receiving from his parents. Demelza picked up one of the flowers when she spoke again.

“What if you call Mister Ross ‘Uncle’ and myself ‘Aunt Demelza’?  Would that be easier?”

Her suggestion made total sense and Ross was embarrassed that he didn’t think of it himself. But then again, Demelza was the more sensible of the two of them.

“Brilliant idea my love,” he said brightly. “What do you say, Valentine?”

He turned to Valentine who still seemed unsure.

“Yes sir,” he answered.  “I mean Uncle Ross.”

“Good. Now that we’ve settled that let’s see about getting all of you some tea and biscuits.”

Ross and Demelza shared a look failing to notice that Jeremy was not enthused about the decision but said nothing.  His parents did notice that their son had been distant during this discussion so there was still work to do in getting him used to the change in the family dynamic.

“Jeremy, take Clowance and Valentine down to Jane and I’ll follow presently.”

The three trooped out and Ross shut the door behind them. Going back to Demelza, he took a seat facing her as she opened her nightgown to feed Bella.

“What I said all those years ago is still true.  You really do make me ashamed my love. Your heart is so generous.”

Demelza felt tears gather again but refused to give into them and willed them to stay put.

“He’s a child, Ross. And he needs us.  Just as Jeremy, Clowance, and Bella do. Nothing else matters right now.”

Ross leaned over to kiss her, his hands sliding from her cheek to thread through the hair at the nape of her neck.  He pulled away just as Bella was rooting to Demelza’s breast.

“Go, love, before they get in more trouble,” Demelza said.

“I’ll be back soon,” he whispered.

“Yes, Ross.”

He rose and walked to the door but before passing through it turned and spoke.

“I’m so glad you are the mother of my children, Demelza.”

The emotion made his voice thick as they both knew that he was not only talking of the offspring of their marriage.  She had no response because at that moment her heart was full of love for all the Poldark children, no matter their origins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay in updating this or any other story. Real life decided to interrupt but I hope to get back in the swing of writing over the next few weeks. So many stories, so little time.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this was not supposed to happen until after I finish "Rockaway" and "Remember" but the gremlins appeared and wouldn't leave. This is just a very rough start and I do plan on continuing but possibly not until after those are "done and dusted".


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